So, Story Time?
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: NFA Hangman prize. Oneshot. Tony and Tim friendship. Not slash.


**A/N: **And another NFA Hangman prize. Oneshot friendship between Tony and Tim. The book is very good. I recommend it!

**Disclaimer:** As per usual, I do _not_ own NCIS or any of the characters. Nor do I own _Lord of Light_. Boy, I wish I did though.

* * *

**So...Story Time?**

"So... now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm _bored_, Probie. What now?"

Tim let out a long-suffering sigh. "I don't care, Tony. You don't even have to be here. You're the one who insisted on coming along."

"You have a concussion, McGee. You're not supposed to be alone for at least overnight."

"I told you that I could make my own arrangements. All I want to do is go to bed. I'm _definitely_ not going clubbing, okay?"

"I wasn't even going to suggest it."

Tim arched an eyebrow.

"I _wasn't_! But, come on, there's got to be _something_ you do for fun."

"Nothing that I want to do with this headache."

"Concussion."

"Whatever."

There was a period of silence as the two men sat, one fidgeting, the other tired and irritable.

"...like what?" Tony asked finally.

Tim blinked a couple of times. "Huh?"

"Like what? What would you do for fun right now if you didn't have a concussion?"

"Nothing you'd enjoy, Tony."

"Try me."

"There's a book I bought a couple of weeks ago that I was looking forward to reading when I had time. Of course, it figures that now I have time and can't read it."

"Can't?"

"The words swim on the page when I focus for too long. I'll just go to bed. You can entertain yourself, Tony." Tim stood unsteadily and went into his bedroom.

Tony walked over to the book lying next to Tim's computer. _Lord of Light_ by Roger Zelazny.

"Never heard of it," Tony muttered to himself. "Big surprise." He flipped it over and read the back and barely held back a sarcastic comment. It was kind of his fault Tim was in his current state. He flipped the book open to the first page and winced at some of the Hindu names. _Oh, well. There are worse things._ Decision made, he knocked on Tim's door.

"What, Tony?" came the tired reply. Tony smiled a little sadly. He knew that Tim got frustrated with him sometimes. It was mostly his headache talking.

"You decent, McGee?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Settle yourself down in your bed. It's story time!" Tony announced as he walked in the room.

"What?"

"Story time."

"What are you going to read me?" Tim asked warily.

"It's a surprise. Lay down, don't have a relapse and listen."

Tim smiled, but while he looked exasperated, he was grateful as well. "Okay, okay. I'm laying down."

"Good." Tony settled on the chair near the bed. "The Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny."

Tim opened his eyes and stared at Tony in shock. "If you mock me with this book, I'll kill you, concussion or not, DiNozzo."

"Have a little faith, McGee. Just don't mock _me_ when I slaughter the pronunciation of these Hindu gods, okay."

Tim smiled. "Deal."

When Tim closed his eyes again, Tony resumed. "Chapter One. 'It is said that fifty-three years after his liberation he returned from the Golden Cloud, to take up once again the gauntlet of Heaven, to oppose the Order of Life and the gods who ordained it so...'

Tim lay listening to Tony. He smiled at Tony's attempt to pronounce such words as _Boddhisatva_ and _Raltariki_, but he didn't say a word. He had been looking forward to reading this book for awhile, and it had pained him as much as the knock on his head to be forced to sit around doing nothing when that wonderful book was lying there, waiting to be read.

"'...Everything was flaming. Flames leapt from the stone walls, the tables, the robes of the monks. Smoke billowed and curled about the room. Yama stood in the midst of a conflagration, but he did not move. ...'"

He really couldn't believe that Tony was taking the time to do this for him. He didn't like the kind of books Tim did...if he read much for pleasure at all. And yet, here he was, reading a book full of funny names and strange plots without a hint of mockery or sarcasm. Tim smiled again, for a different reason.

"Okay, McGee, I'm going to stop here. There's no way I'm going to sing."

"What?" Tim had been almost asleep.

"The priest is about to chant to Brahma and even the text has musical notes in it. I'm not singing for you."

Tim grinned sleepily. "Come on, just finish the chapter. You don't have to sing. Promise. No Hindu chants, no _oms_, just read the words."

"You'd better appreciate this, McGee."

"I really do, Tony," Tim said, forcing his eyes open. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Tony said smiling. He looked back down at the page. "'Hail, ruler of the universe, mightiest of the four orders of gods...'"

Tim fell asleep. Tony could tell by the snores. He closed the book and laid it on Tim's nightstand.

"Good night, McGee," he said and turned out the light before he left the room.


End file.
